


Let's Kill Tonight

by prxnxykxi



Series: Ryden Angst Fest [8]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, I actually really like it, Murderers, This was BCMs wonderful idea, murder boyfriends, yep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:37:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10530942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prxnxykxi/pseuds/prxnxykxi
Summary: Yes, so, this is kinda shitty, but BCM gave me the prompt for Bren and RyRo murdering people for fun. Dark, but you'll like it.Anyway, I'm not great at writing murder scenes, so forgive me.





	1. Chapter 1

_ If I retreat, words, wars and symphonies _

_ Make room we're taking over here _

_ You're the galantine, cold and alone, it suits you well _

_ Won't find me perching here again _

 

If Brendon had to describe his life in one word, it would be invigorating. If he had to describe it in one sentence, it would be ‘yes, Ryan, let’s go kill someone’. Now, that may sound weird, but it was true. He and Ryan, in between daily tasks and work, liked to kill. There was something about it that just felt so good. 

 

It had started a few days after the release of ‘Too Weird To Live, Too Rare To Die’. They hadn’t meant for it to happen, but it was the only way the event could have turned out. Brendon and Ryan had been out at a bar, celebrating the release of the album. Walking down the street after a long night of drinking, Ryan had been pulled into a side alley, taking Brendon with him. The two of them had their backs pressed against the wall, staring at two other men, holding knives to their throats. 

 

“It’s either your money or your life.” one had growled, pressing closer to Brendon. 

 

“We don’t have any money on us.” Brendon replied, his voice cracking slightly. 

 

“Yeah? Prove it.” the guy closest to Ryan said. When neither of them answered, he began to speak again. “Get ‘im, DJ.” he said and moved toward Brendon, pushing Ryan aside. 

 

The guy beside Brendon, DJ, snickered, grabbed the front of Brendon’s shirt and threw him to the pavement. The other guy pinned Brendon’s arms while DJ kneeled over him, holding a knife to his throat.

 

That was when it happened. Something in Ryan snapped and he lunged, knocking DJ onto his back and grabbing the knife from his hand. In one quick movement, the knife was lodged in DJ’s chest. Ryan watched the life leave his eyes before he turned back to Brendon, breathing heavily. 

 

“Bren…” he had mumbled, hoping to God Brendon didn’t freak out. Glancing up to the other guy, realised what would need to happen. “Brendon, get him!” 

 

Brendon didn’t hesitate. He leapt and tackled the guy down, pressing his cheek to the pavement. “Ryan, hurry!” 

 

Ryan raced over to Brendon and sank the knife into the side of the guy’s head. With both of them panting, Ryan tossed the knife away and stared at the brick wall. “Brendon?” 

 

“Yeah?” Brendon asked. 

 

“That was…” Ryan trailed off. 

 

Brendon grinned. “Awesome…” 


	2. Stomp Your Feet and Clap Your Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right, I apologise for my previous fuck up. BCM has brought my attention to the plausibility of a knife going through the skull so simply. I must admit, sometimes my brain thinks in Walking Dead logic, so clearly, this is a valid excuse. 
> 
> I hope this chapter makes up for it, as I have extensive search history on my computer now that may or may not draw attention to this fic. Anyway, I'm sure I'll be fine. My counselor shouldn't be too worried, as he knows what my brain is like. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're ready for a little guest appearance from our friends at Fall Out Boy ;)

_ May your feet serve you well _

_ And the rest be sent to hell _

_ Where they always have belonged _

_ Cold hearts brew colder songs _

_ Fate will play us out with a song of pure romance _

_ Stomp your feet and clap your hands _

 

And that’s how they got here, sitting in the dark of the tour bus, sharpening their knives with practised ease. The faint ‘shhhhnk, shhhhnk’ of the metal was oddly soothing to Brendon. Watching Ryan so focused on what he was doing helped as well. The fear that riddled him before their little outings never ceased to terrify him. 

 

“Bren, calm down. You’ve done this a million times before.” Ryan said, not even glancing up at Brendon. When Brendon’s movements stopped, he knew exactly what was going through the younger man’s head.

 

“I know, I know.” Brendon grumbled, shifting to set his knife aside. As he did so, he knocked his water bottle off the table, sending a loud ‘thump’ through the bus. Ryan and Brendon both froze, their now wide eyes locked on each other.

 

After a moment, they both relaxed, Brendon letting out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “Sorry.” he mumbled and looked down.

 

“It’s fine, Bren. Just, try not to do that next time, okay?” Ryan grinned. 

 

Brendon nodded firmly, giving Ryan a salute. “Right. We ready?”

 

Ryan nodded back and tossed Brendon a pair of latex gloves, slipping his own pair over his hands. Brendon slid his own gloves on and grabbed the water bottle from the floor, along with his knife. Ryan grabbed his knife and lead Brendon outside. 

 

“So, who is it tonight?” Brendon asked, surveying the area around them. There wasn’t a lot of people, which would make this easy, should Ryan choose a target near them.

 

“I’m thinking...this guy?” Ryan said and turned so that his knife was pointing at Brendon. 

 

“Ryan!” Brendon yelped, holding his hands up. The fear that flickered over his face was enough to make even the most cynical feel pity.

 

Ryan chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I mean that guy.” he said and pointed over Brendon’s shoulder at a man that looked to be in his early thirties. 

 

Brendon looked to where Ryan was pointing and nodded, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Sounds good.” he said, slowly stepping forward. 

 

“You know what to do?” Ryan asked, taking the water bottle from Brendon and taking a swig. 

 

“Of course I do.” Brendon replied, swiping the water bottle back and taking his own sip. 

 

“Go ahead.” said Ryan as he waved his hand forward, letting Brendon do his thing. 

 

Brendon began to creep forward, his footsteps feather light, barely making a sound as he walked. Upon coming into contact with the oddly familiar looking guy, Brendon clamped a hand over his mouth as to make sure that any sound he made was muffled. 

 

“Shut up and this will all go a lot smoother.” He growled, wrestling the guy down. 

 

Now it was Ryan’s turn. Slowly, he made his way in front of the guy, knife pressing to his neck. The guy’s terrified expression was the last thing Ryan let him give before the blade was dragged in a sharp, smooth line over the jugular veins. 

 

The man gagged, but made no other noises as Brendon let him go. When he got a better look, his face paled. 

 

“Ryan?” 

 

“Yeah, Bren?” Ryan asked, staring at the blood dripping from his knife. 

  
Brendon looked up at Ryan, letting a nervous chuckle slip. “I think we just killed Patrick Stump.” 


	3. Show Them All You're Not the Ordinary Type

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> holy fucking shit this was fucking dark. jesus christ, you're so welcome.

_ Let's kill tonight, kill tonight _

_ Show them all you're not the ordinary type _

_ Let's kill tonight, kill tonight _

_ Show them all you're not the ordinary type _

_ Let's kill tonight _

 

“Brendon, you idiot, don’t just stand there!” Ryan shouted, the flashing red and blue lights sweeping over his face, illuminating the scared expression he held. 

 

Out of all the situations they could’ve ended up in, Brendon never expected  _ this  _ to be one of them. Yet, here he stood, eyes wide and unblinking as they flickered between Dallon’s body on the ground and the cops a few feet from him. In front of Ryan, lay Spencer’s own lifeless body, pale and unmoving. Brendon couldn’t think. He couldn’t do anything but stare.

 

Then, he was being pulled, and he was running, feet pounding hard on the pavement. Ryan’s grip was tight on his hand as he dragged him along, stumbling over a few cracks in the asphalt. “Brendon, hurry.” Ryan panted out, tugging on Brendon’s hand. 

 

Brendon pushed himself harder, forcing himself to speed up, even though his legs were already burning. “Ryan, slow down!” he shouted, looking over his shoulder to see four cops chasing them on foot. Where the fuck were the squad cars? When Brendon turned his head forward, he spotted them. At least six squad cars waiting for them at the intersection, all with cops crouching behind them, guns at the ready. 

 

“Ryan, wait!” Brendons screamed. It was too late. 

 

Everything happened in slow motion after that. As Ryan stepped of the curb, a shot was fired, and Ryan stopped dead in his tracks. 

 

“Ryan!” Brendon screamed again, watching Ryan fall, his body landing on the pavement. Brendon’s eyes widened, and something vital in him snapped. He released Ryan’s hand and marched forward, slipping the knife from his pocket. 

 

The growl he let out as he swung the knife around was almost animalistic. He watched as the blade sunk into the side of the man’s neck. Brendon had surely severed the external jugular vein. The officer wouldn’t survive. 

 

With a grunt, Brendon snatched the gun from the man’s limp hand and held it up, eyes narrowed and blazing with anger. “One move and you’re dead.” he growled, a vicious sneer painted over his face. 

 

A few officers swallowed, a few nodded slowly, unsure of what Brendon would do. One stepped forward though. Rookie mistake. Brendon turned and fired at him, watch as the impact of the bullet made him stumble. Blood began to seep from where the bullet had penetrated the lung. 

 

Brendon smirked, turning back to the rest of the officers. Brendon fired off the remaining twelve rounds, watching as each officer dropped to the ground until there were only two left. The click of the empty gun made Brendon’s heart drop. He couldn’t take on two guys with one knife. Not like Ryan had. 

 

Brendon dropped the gun and stepped forward, his knife clutched tight in his hand. “Don’t move.” he advised, making his way slowly but surely toward Ryan’s body. Once he got there, he dropped to his knees and lifted Ryan’s shoulders, noticing he was still breathing, only slightly though.

 

“Hey, Ry...it’s okay.” Brendon mumbled.”You’re gonna be okay.” he said, almost begging as tears began to fill his eyes and cloud his vision. 

 

Ryan coughed, shaking his head a little. “Too late, Bren.” he murmured. “I love you. I love you, Bren.” he said with a small smile. 

 

“I love you, Ryan…” Brendon whispered, watching the life drain from Ryan’s eyes.

  
Then, everything went black. 


End file.
